Rebuilding
by Beth Pryor
Summary: Annie's attendance at a bachelorette party takes a turn for the drunk, leading to an uncomfortable conversation with Auggie. Early S4 Annie/Auggie angst. Could also fit into my Andersons Universe around the time of "Rewind."


**Title:** Rebuilding

 **Author:** Beth Pryor

 **Rating:** M

 **Summary:** Annie's attendance at a bachelorette party takes a turn for the drunk, leading to an uncomfortable conversation with Auggie.

 **Universe/Timing:** I could imagine this taking place somewhere post S3 and before things went awry in Season 4. Alternately it could be set around the time as my previous story "Rewind" but could also be canon.

 **Disclaimer:** Ah, we all know how this goes.

 **A/N:** This show, as well as the time of year (a full year and three months before the next general election) make me feel a little political. I think we've heard all of this, but maybe A &A need to discuss it. Maybe not. Feedback is always appreciated.

* * *

 **Rebuilding**

Auggie answers the knock at the door about three minutes after the call alerting him that they are on the way. "Hey, Leslie," he greets the woman he's only ever known as Jai's secretary. He doesn't know where she works now. But here she stands before him, the bride-to-be with Annie in tow.

"Sorry. She's a bit of a mess. I thought she'd be able to maintain a little better." She shrugs, depositing Annie into Auggie's arms.

"Auggie! Baby," Annie exclaims as he envelops her in his delicious warmth.

"Thanks. I'll deal with it," he assures the other woman before he turns his attention to Annie. "Come on, Honey. Come in here."

Annie ignores him. Or maybe she's forgotten that he's there. She reaches back and hugs the girl who's interrupted her own bachelorette party to take care of too drunk Annie. "Thanks, Les. And congratulations!" she remembers before she turns to Auggie as though she just realized he was standing there. "Baby!"

He can't help but smile. He doesn't think he's ever seen her this drunk. "Come inside, Annie."

They both trip a little on the welcome mat as they cross the threshold of the front door. Annie falls against him falling against the doorjamb. "Auggie. Oh God I love you."

He holds them steady. "I know, Babe. Come on inside. It's cold." It really isn't, but they shouldn't be standing on the front stoop like this. This is a nice neighborhood.

She leans against his chest as he directs her to the couch. She plops onto it like a sack of potatoes. He leaves her to retrieve a bottle of water, which she definitely needs.

"They raised my clearance," she reveals with no preamble. "I saw the reports." She shakes her head, even though she knows he can't see her. "They made him lie."

He knew he shouldn't ask, but he does, anyway. "Who lied, Sweetheart?"

"Colin Powell."

Oh God. His clearance is sufficient, but he doesn't need to hear this. "Annie," he cautions.

"There were no weapons of mass destruction."

He reappears at her side, the bottle of water now forgotten. "Annie," he tries again. She's not listening.

"They weren't fucking there." She reaches for his face, his beautiful face. "Oh God," she whispers as the weight of it hits her. "They weren't there, Auggie."

"Annie," he pleads with her.

"You know this?" It starts as a question. Then she understands. "Oh. You know this." Tears fill her eyes.

"Please. Stop."

She's sobbing now. "Oh god. What a waste!"

"Please," he whispers, knowing that ship has sailed.

She's suddenly calm. Eerily so. "They weren't fucking there."

He pulls on her hand. "Come to bed."

The tears start again, but her voice hitches only minimally. "They ruined you."

He has to remind himself to breathe, gulping in air a couple of times to relieve the lightheaded feeling and the tingling in his fingers. When he speaks, it doesn't even sound like him, so detached, so unsure, so broken, "Is that what you really think?"

She hears it, too. Her hands are on him again. "No. God. If not for this, I'd have never found you." Well, this and Ben Mercer, but somehow she knows not to say that, even though her internal filter has otherwise failed. The verbal diarrhea continues. "But they weren't there. And they did this to you."

He's angrier than he should be. So he snaps at her. "I know. You think I don't fucking know? That we don't all fucking know?"

She stares at the contours of his face, at the shadows cast by the streetlights streaming through the wall of windows. He's deathly pale and shaking. Her hand attempts to quiet his. "Baby."

He pushes her away. "Don't. You should try to sleep." He moves to stand, but she reaches for him.

"I don't want to."

"You really need to."

"Oh god. I said that. I didn't mean. I didn't…"

Auggie collapses against her. He isn't prepared for this conversation. Not in any way.

"I know, Baby. I know.

She knows he's shaken, that she needs to shut it down. "I'm sorry."

"So am I." He doesn't usually yell. He doesn't like that he just did.

She needs to shut it down, and maybe it's the martinis talking by now, but she doesn't. "They weren't there, Auggie. They weren't."

His head begins to ache from all the jaw clenching. "I know, Annie. Come to bed," he pleads again.

"How do you deal with that?"

"Sometimes I don't," he confesses.

"You've been drinking as much as me?"

He smiles just a little as he kisses her hair. "Not tonight, but some nights. When I don't have to navigate anything."

"I'm _so_ sorry." For everything.

"I know." He does. He stands and reaches for her. "Come with me?"

She places her hand in his as she raises herself from the sofa. "I don't deserve you."

He shrugs, calling up that smirking grin he knows she loves. "I think we're pretty well-matched."

Annie drifts. "Those things he said to the UN Security Council…"

His arms pull her into his chest. "Don't get me started on that guy." He's only partly kidding.

"But it wasn't his fault. I saw the Josh Brolin movie. Then I read the clean-up. They made him say all the wrong things. Lies."

Ah, Annie. Redemption at any cost. Even for the former Secretary of State. "Then maybe we'll let him off the hook tonight."

She vacillates again. "I'm so sorry about this."

"It's okay, Love." It is. He has his own moments. She's seen a couple of them.

"No quips. No witty rejoinders?"

He's somber again. "Not tonight."

Then it hits her. It takes her a moment to catch her breath. "You knew. And you still went."

Auggie nods his head. Once. Twice. "I'm a soldier, Babe. They needed me. Didn't really matter why. Didn't really matter where."

"And he was a bad, bad man," she rationalizes, just as she assumes everyone else in the world has for the past 12 years.

"Yes. He was." Auggie's done this before, does it every day.

She keeps talking. He can hear her brain attempting to reconcile it all as she works it out. "But we've let others keep doing what they're doing, even when we know they've crossed the lines we've drawn."

Auggie shrugs. "I don't make the rules. Or enforce them anymore. It's just the way things work." He doesn't like it either, but the world is an unfair place.

"And you've made your peace." Her fingers ascend his arms, tracing the outline of every taught muscle.

He nods, resting his forehead against hers. "I had to. A long, long time ago. Before I could even consider what my life after would be like."

She nods against him. "So I should, too?"

"In your own time." He knows these things can't be rushed, that she has to get there on her own.

"But sooner would be better than later?"

He laughs, finally, some of the tension from this line of questioning siphoning away with the sound. "Ideally, yes. But I know that's not always how things work, either."

Annie licks her lips. "I need some water."

"I know. I had a bottle, but I don't remember what I did with it."

"Probably because some crazy drunk lady was going on about Colin Powell all night," she laments.

"Ugh!" Auggie groans. "I'm about to take you to bed, and I don't want him in my head."

"Should we move on to Condoleezza Rice?"

He pulls her in close and kisses her neck. "Go get your water, and maybe I'll consider discussing Sarah Palin."

Annie explodes with laughter. "Whatever you want, Baby."

He exhales near her ear. "You know what I want."

Shivering, she walks him back toward the bed. His knees hit and he sits. She straddles him. "Auggie?" she pleads, her hand snakes under his clothes. Why is he still wearing a shirt? "Why are you still wearing a shirt?" He shrugs out of it, grinning as the fabric hits the floor.

FIN


End file.
